How to Tell If Ian Kabra Likes You
by kissesatMidNight
Summary: Cosmo magazine gives us detailed descriptions of a guy's behavior when they like us, but they are clueless when that guy is Ian Kabra.
1. Chapter 1

**He sits on the_ dirt_ ground with you.**

"What are you doing out here?" he asked, his voice containing an edge of disgust as he flicked a speck of dirt off his custom-tailored Versace pants.

She gazed at the night sky dusted with glitter; twinkling little stars that sparkled with radiance, before shifting her gaze to Ian's face. His luminous amber orbs bore into hers as he raised his eyebrows.

"It was a bit too loud in there," she replied, a lock of scarlet hair falling in her eyes.

He bent down, tucking her hair behind her ear. As he got back up, he noticed that a her cheeks had been tinted a lovely rose color.

"Are you going to go back inside?" Amy wondered, twiddling her thumbs.

He shook his head, easing himself to the ground. Her cheeks grew even warmer as she felt his knees and elbows brush against hers.

She snuck a glance at his face, noting the expression of distaste on his features.

"What is it?"

"The blasted ground is dirty!"

Amy stared at him for a moment before rolling her eyes: "Ian, it's dirt," she sighed. "You can't sterilize the ground."

He didn't answer her, choosing instead to brush his hands of the dirt they had acquired.

"We can go inside?" Amy half-heartedly offered, grabbing her jacket.

"I'd rather stay out here," he declined, giving her a gentle smile.

"Why not?" she frowned, confused.

Instead of supplying her an answer, he decided to put an arm around her instead.

* * *

**He hates-no, detests- your use of makeup.**

"Do I look okay, Ian?" Amy asked, her tone nervous as checked her back in the hallway mirror.

Ian peered at her over his laptop, rolling up his sleeves as he squinted at her over his reading glasses.

She was far away, but he could make out her slender form in the totally un-Amy-ish figure hugging Lacoste dress (as far as he was concerned, Amy did buy clothes that cost over twenty dollars), and patent pumps.

Her red hair looked an even brighter shade as the light hit it, and Ian also noticed something he didn't like.

She was wearing makeup.

He closed his laptop, and made his way over to her, cupping her chin with his hand as he inspected it.

"Are you wearing makeup?"

She blinked surprisedly: "yeah, Natalie let me borrow some of her, um, equipment."

He silently took in the fact that she had successfully applied lipstick, lipgloss, eyeliner, eyeshadow, and bronzer, yet somehow she didn't look like herself.

The Amy he knew wouldn't ever think about using any gunk on her face to hide the simple beauty it held.

"Why the sudden use of...that?" he asked, picking up an eyelash curler and thinking how much it looked like a medieval torture contraption.

She looked down, a shy smile gracing her lips as she twirled her auburn ponytail.

"I have a date."

Those four words caused Ian's fingers to subconsciously drop the silver piece of crap as his mind and heart struggled to understand the words she had just uttered.

"A date," he repeated bitterly, as he forced a smile.

She failed to notice the melancholy in his words as she inspected her face in the mirror once more.

"Mm-hmm," she confirmed, reapplying her lip-gloss.

"You look nice," he offered,"except your makeup is a little-"

"It's a little what?" she spun around, alarmed.

"Just let me," he replied, picking up a white towellete and some makeup remover.

A little dazed she allowed him to 'fix' her makeup.

When he was done, he put the towellete down. "There," he said, smiling, "you look beautiful."

Her ivory cheeks reddened as she accepted his compliment, and too dazed to answer she picked up her purse and left, finding Jake's car pulling into the driveway.

As they drove to the restaurant, she caught a glimpse of her face in the rearview mirror.

It was devoid of makeup.

* * *

**I suppose everyone is questioning whether or not I died, and the answer is: no, I have not, but I am literally neck deep in schoolwork. I take all AP so it sucks, and I have a bunch of language learning and stuff, so I haven't updated my other story in a while. I know, I'm a terrible person, I'm sorry. **

**I got the idea for this while reading, you guessed it, _Cosmopoltian_ magazine. I was looking through articles like _how to baby you butt _and _poses that will have him drooling _or something like that, anyway (it's some really jacked up crap people write in there, like seriously), I found an article about _how to tell if he likes you. _Then I just wrote this on my phone quickly. This'll have about five short chapters, if you can call them that, and it's just like a break from homework for me. I want to strangle my teacher right now. When in life will I ever need to calculate the hypotenuse of a right angle traingle, or the volume of a heptagonal-prism. I'm thirteen years old, for Mr. Button's sake! _  
_**

**I'll probably go be depressed over some ice-cream right now. Please review! **

**(Has anyone ever tried french fries with caviar? It's really good!)**


	2. Chapter 2

**He doesn't mind when you see him half naked. **

Amy Cahill climbed up the stairs swiftly, her red locks swinging jauntily from side side as she flipped through the mail.

Bills, bills, bills, oh- what's this?

An official looking, pearl white envelope with the name Ian Kabra stamped across the front.

Amy's fingers itches to tear open the envelope, but because she was a firm believer in privacy, she decided she would let the envelope's recipient open it instead.

She rapped her knuckles on the door impatiently, eager to know of the contents of the envelope.

A sigh emanated from behind the door: "Daniel, I'm really not in the mood to be your babysitter right now," Ian called out exasperatedly, "go bother someone else."

Amy rolled her eyes before calling out "it's Amy!"

There was a brief pause, then a zipping sound, accompanied by a shuffle of footsteps before the door swung open, revealing Ian.

"You should have said that in the first place, love," he smirked, gesturing inside grandly.

For a moment, Amy forgot to breathe.

No, it wasn't because of his perfectly tousled dark hair that every girl wanted to run her fingers through. Nor was it because of those

piercing, bright amber eyes, with flecks of onyx, shaded by heavy dark lashes.

No this time, it was the fact that he was barely covered: a white towel was wrapped around his waist, resembling a toga a Greek god would wear, and all that flooded her vision was the image of his muscular torso.

She supposed that he had just taken a shower, explaining the water droplets that were making rivulets down his back.

"Is there a problem?" he teased, cocking his head to the side.

"N-no," she replied darkly, her cheeks the color of apples as she averted her gaze to the floor.

He closed the door shut as she stepped inside and sat on the queen sized bed, tossing a pair of Ian's pants aside.

"This came in the mail for you," she said, holding out the envelope.

"Just leave it on the bed," he called, about to remove his towel.

"NO!" Amy yelled, shutting her eyes, "Please don't be naked!"

Ian rolled his eyes, both endeared and annoyed: "Amy, don't be such a prude."

"I'm not being a prude! You're being a stripper!"

"Amy," Ian sighed, trying to conceal a smile, "we've been married for six months!"

**Okay so this is really short and I am so sorry but I am going to break down and cry because of this goddamn IB and coffee is my new BFF. Anyway I got my iPhone5! It's awesome! So review and stuff! I know this is like three words long, I'll put one more up soon.**


	3. Chapter 3

**He will try to bake you something. And ultimately fail.**

"Is it alive?" Jonah asked, his caramel eyes clouded with interest, at level with the surface of the bubbly, molten mass of brown goo.

"He created a monster," agreed his blonde companion, whose muscles flexed as he reached across the table for a knife to crack open the hard, cracked black boulder in the baking pan in front of him.

Both boys heads snapped upwards as a resonating crash sounded in the next room.

"DAMNIT YOU STUPID OVEN!"

Hamilton and Jonah's heads swiveled towards each other, before they raced into the kitchen.

Ian's once immaculate white shirt was now fifty shades of brown, his hands dirty with flour. His amber eyes were glaring hard at the huge splat of cake batter that had popped out of the oven and landed on the wall.

He had been trying to bake a simple chocolate sponge cake all day, for just one purpose―to impress Amy.

"Ian," Jonah started, " Dude, why didn't you put that in the oven?"

"I did!" Ian burst, "Except the oven tried to kill me!"

"Nellie isn't going to be happy with you, bro," Hamilton warned.

"You put the damn thing inside the microwave!" Jonah exclaimed, face palming.

Before Ian could reply, the jingle of keys sounded from the other room.

The three cousins ran out, too frightened to face Nellie's terrible wrath, to find Amy in the living room, a yellow cardigan draped over her shoulders, her fiery hair in a messy bun.

In one hand she clutched a dirty spoon, and her lips were stained with burnt chocolate, her face morphed into an expression of pain.

"You tried to bake, didn't you?" she moaned, clutching her stomach.

Ian blinked, tamed by the presence of the girl he had feelings for, yet still menacing enough to shoot a scorching glare at Hamilton, who was chuckling.

"We thought we'd bake a cake for your birthday," Ian said, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

"We!" Jonah sputtered, "you were the one who―OW!"

Ian stepped on Jonah's converse clad foot, digging in his heel.

Amy blinked in surprise: "Ian," she said smilingly, shaking her head, "My birthday is tomorrow!"

"I TOLD YOU! I TOLD YOU!" Hamilton yelled, his enormous frame bouncing up and down.

"Guys," Amy held up a hand to stop the brewing argument, "please don't fight, I'm trying to understand why I did this to myself," she said, walking slowly up the stairs.

The boys watched her go, silent until Ian spoke up: "whatever we do tomorrow, we are_ buying_ the cake!"

* * *

** YES YES YES! I ACED MY EUROPEAN HISTORY, JAPANESE, AND TRIG TESTS! I AM SO HAPPY RIGHT NOW! Thanks so much for your reviews! You guys are so amazingly supportive of my writing, even though it's not as good as it could be, and I love you so so so so much!**

** Someone asked me if I thought Amy was too OOC in the first chapter, with the makeup and all, and I really don't think she is :P The new series portrays Amy as more confident, with her family, school, and with boys as well, so I thought Amy was pretty IC. Maybe not in this chapter though, hehe. I also want to point out that in Rapid Fire: Crushed, it says that Amy painted her nails for Ian. I did try to make her seem a little naive to the use of makeup itself, though.**

** Thank you, thank you, thank you. UNICORN. **


	4. Chapter 4

**He gets overprotective. Really, really, really, really overprotective.**

* * *

"Where do you think you are going, dressed like that?" Ian asked, sounding eerily like Amy's dad as he folded his arms over his chest, raising one eyebrow-a skill only the male members of the Kabra family had perfectly mastered.

Amy gazed down at her oversized Harvard sweatshirt, sweatpants and Uggs, her mind foggy due to the lack of caffeine in her system. She hadn't applied any makeup, or bothered to do her hair properly either.

"The grocery store?" she uncertainly answered her boyfriend's query, pushing the strap of the large cloth Eco-bag further up her shoulder.

"At this hour?" Ian pursed his lips, his honey-colored irises bright with rage.

"Ian, it's eleven A.M," Amy sighed, glancing at the rubber watch on her wrist.

"Exactly."

"Wha- what exactly?"

Ian's scorching glare bore holes in Amy's head, as she blinked cluelessly.

"It has been one hour since *we woke up," Ian said through his teeth, clenching his fists, "and we have not talked or made physical contact."

Amy blinked.

Ian scowled.

"So?"

Ian banged his fist on the counter. "Dammit, why are you being so difficult today? I just made one simple request!"

"Ian," Amy sighed, her lips pursed to conceal a smile. "Did you take any pills out of your sister's cabinet?"

"It's not funny," he snapped, running a hand through his disheveled dark locks, "you're leaving me and going so far away!"

Amy glanced out the window: "I'm crossing the street!"

Ian shook his head, his gel-free black hair flopping from side to side. "You haven't been within a foot of me since this morning," Ian exclaimed angrily, "crossing the street is a far thought."

A groan emitted from Amy's lips due to aggravation. Making sure to take large, noisy steps, she stomped over to Ian, gazing up at him stubbornly."There," she grumbled, "is that close enough for you?"

She was far too annoyed to see the Kabra-like glint in her boyfriend's amber orbs, and the satisfied smirk that took over his lips. Right now Ian wanted one thing, and that one thing was Amy. Having been taught that he should always take what he wants, he fastened his arms around her waist, aggressively pulling her to him before he pulled her into a searing kiss.

Amy squirmed and writhed in his arms, giving in when she felt his tongue swipe her lower lip. She pulled away, her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen afterwards, offering him a smirk, which morphed rapidly into an expression of confusion after seeing Ian's fac of alarm.

"What pills?"

* * *

***I was wondering if that sentence sounded a little bit awkward? Should I have used awoken, or any other word or phrase?****  
**

**Thank you all so much for all of your reviews, support, and follows! I love reading what all of you write, and I really appreciate all of your CC and encouragement. I feel like I should acknowledge you guys: Agent Get Amy and Ian Together, Seer136, Volcanic Lily, The Gone Angel, Hiker Writer, Kitty in Boots, and sexy chick twist. All of ****you that reviewed chapter three, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU XDXDXD**

**By the way, I'm participating in the Scripps Spelling Bee thing from Japan, and now I'm going to the Nationals in Japan. If I win, I'm going to Washington DC for the real Nationals, so wish me luck! **

**Someone asked if I'm a genius or not. The answer is not. My parents are really successful, and my cousins all go or graduated from Harvard or Yale or something, and they're all businessmen and lawyers and doctors and they're really successful too, so if I don't end up going to Harvard or Yale and bein a businesswoman or lawyer or doctor, I'll probably be hanged or something. **

**Wow, you're still reading this? If you are, end your review (yes, you shall review) with the phrase 'NEFARIOUS NOUGAT'. Bye now!**


	5. Chapter 5

***Sorry, I really don't like authors notes before the story, but I just have to apologize for the incredibly OOC actions of these characters. It's all DoD's fault. **

**He will look after your goddamned cat. (Despite his urge to shoot the damn feline.)**

* * *

"Please Ian? For me?"

She wasn't that naive, he decided. Amy Cahill was definitely not the pretty, stuttering ingenue he had known and adored for as long as he could remember.

She was still pretty, (if anything, she was even_ prettier_), and she still stuttered at times, but Amy Cahill was in no way as clueless as he had deemed her to be.

If you gazed at her from afar, and were privileged enough to share a conversation with her, you would admire her rouge locks and her striking sage eyes. You would learn about her bibliophilic tendencies, and her vast knowledge of world history.

But if you looked closer, as Ian had, you would begin to realize that Amy Cahill liked to get what she wants, when she wants it.

And she was very good at it.

"Come on, Ian, please? It's only for a couple hours," Amy pleaded, fluttering her long lashes, deliberately playing with him. See? Now how was he supposed to refuse?

"Ah, Amy," Ian began, hesitantly rubbing the back of his neck, "Saladin and I aren't the best of friends. We-"

"That's why you need to get to know him better! He's just really shy with new people. Now that you've been here a while, I'm sure you've grown on him! You'll be great friends!" Amy exclaimed, placing a hand on Ian's arm, beaming at him.

He hated the way she was playing with him: setting his skin on fire, causing the butterflies in his stomach to start furiously batting their wings.

This was not like her. And he wanted it to stop.

"Amy," Ian offered her a strange look, "Saladin is a cat. Humans don't make friends with cats." Ian carefully  
enunciated his words as if speaking to a toddler. "And besides, Saladin and I are great friends. Our friendship just consists of hatred and scratching."

Amy sighed, turning her back on him.

Maybe it was her time of the month.

"_Ian_," she turned around to face him, gazing up at him with glinting green eyes. Her eyes were such a mesmerizing color, he couldn't say no now, could he?

"Okay, _okay_ I'll do it," he mumbled in audibly, rolling up the sleeves of his Oxford shirt.

"You will?" She confirmed, a beautiful smile on her glossy lips (why was she wearing that disgusting brown goo on her lips?).

"Yes, I will," Ian grunted, leaning on the counter.

"Thank you so much!" She stood on her toes to peck him on the cheek before grabbing her bag and checking her makeup in the mirror (Why Natalie? Why?).

"Where are you going," he asked, dreading the heartbreaking answer he knew he would receive.

"Oh, Jake and I were going to check out that new Italian place that opened up a few blocks away," she answered, slathering some more crap on her lips.

Ian licked his lips, trying to formulate a reply as he felt the broken shards of his heart grind to dust.

"Have fun."

She threw a smile over her shoulder before slipping on her sandals and leaving.

_"Mrrp."_

Ian gulped, turning to face the silvery-gray demon.

This was going to be a long night.

* * *

**Hi! I'm having term exams now, so I'm crying over the piles of textbooks I have to study from :( And I have AP classes to take from next term. WHYY?**

**Anyway, did anyone else read DoD. If you haven't, please scroll down until you see no more caps.**

**AMY YOU WHORE WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU! YOUR LOYAL PUPPY-LIKE BOYFRIEND JUST DIED FOR YOUR GODDAMNED FAMILY AND NOW YOU'RE SUCKING FACES WITH AN EIGHTEEN YEAR OLD WHO IS ONLY INTERESTED IN PLAYING WITH YOU GODDAMNED ANATOMY. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU YOU SKANK YOU HORRIBLE PERSON I COULD JUST SKAKSGDAJKSKALALDHSHL.**

**NATALIE. YOU STUPID GIRL DID YOU NOT TAKE CHEMISTRY? WE ARE BOTH THIRTEEN YEARS OLD. YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO KNOW WHICH MATERIALS ARE CONDUCTORS, AND WHICH ARE NOT YOU GIDIOT. WHY DID YOU HAVE TO DIE? WHY? YOU WERE MY FAVORITE CHARACTER IN THE SERIES, WHO WILL I RELATE TO NOW?**

**(If you're still reading end your review with "Luke I am your father.)**

**AND YOU DAVID, GET YOUR GODDAMNED FACTS RIGHT.**  
**HAVE YOU NOT TAKEN A GEOGRAPHY CLASS? THE SUBDUCTION ZONE IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS RUNS FROM NORTH TO SOUTH. (I think.) AND HAVE YOU NOT READ A SINGLE THIRTY NINE CLUES BOOK? EVER? REALLY IS IT THAT HARD TO WRITE THE CHARACTERS IN CHARACTER AND TO NOT KILL OFF CHARACTERS THAT ARE IMPORTANT TO US? EVAN TOLLIVER, SWEET EVAN TOLLIVER, DIED WITHOUT KNOWING HIS GIRLFRIEND CHEATED ON HIM. HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO SOMEONE? HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO EVAN? AND AMY? WHY IS SHE WHORING AROUND SO MUCH OUR SWEET STUTTERING LEADER FOARIHEIOQUGHEIU JUST AARGH. **

**AND IAN. HOW COULD YOU MAKE SOMEONE'S LIFE SO MISERABLE. ALL OF HIS FAMILY IS DEAD. HOW DOES THAT MAKE YOU FEEL? DOES IT NOT MATTER TO YOU THAT THERE ARE ABOUT A BILLION FANGIRLS SPREAD ACROSS THE GLOBE WANTING TO WATCH YOU SUFFER A SLOW AND PAINFUL DEATH?**

**AND THE JAMY. Oh my god that was completely ridiculous. This is what happened:**

**(Evan dies)**

**Amy: boo hoo. It's my fault.**

**Jake: hey I love you**

**Amy: I love you too because I am needy and always need a man to support me**

**Jake: take off your pants**

**Ian: dying of depression**

**WHAT IS THAT WHAT ARE YOU DOING WHY ALSNSHBSJ**

**I'm really mad. I'm really mad. We new to do something about this guys. Maybe we should send complaints to the authors or rewrite the book together or something but I can't**  
**live like this. I'm not even dramatizing. I cried for hours after reading DoD. I don't know what to do anymore.**

**End rant.**

**Hey guys, what did Gideon say to Luke?**

**Luke, I am your faaather! **


	6. Chapter 6

Amy gently dabbed at her eyes with a Kleenex, her unwashed copper hair hung in a tangled mane around her shoulders.

She had crammed a handful of popcorn into her mouth earlier, and seemed to have forgotten to chew and swallow, resulting in her tear-stained cheeks being blown-out, something that was both comical and adorable.

As Ian admired Amy from across the room, a smile began to creep up onto his features, causing his cheek muscles to feel slightly stiff from their lack of use, but vanished before Amy could see it. Suddenly, an unpleasant whining noise hit Ian's eardrums from whatever presumably over-sentimental musical Amy was watching.

_Moulin Rouge.__  
_  
Why was _Amy_, of all people, watching Moulin Rouge?

(He secretly loved the film. _Except_ for the _goddamn_ songs.)

He glanced at her as she loudly blew her nose into a tissue, flinching slightly at the obstreperous noise. She tossed the white tissue onto the vast pile of other used tissues, whose height would soon be challenging Mount Everest's.

**He hastily sat down next to her on the beige leather sofa and tried to summon his sensitive side. "Amy, it's just a movie," he said as gently as he could, awkwardly placing a hand on the shaking redhead's shoulder.**

Usually, even when Ian was worried, it was discernible underneath his  
impassive mask. But right now, his concern was evident, and Amy noticed that.

"Jake and I are over," she mumbled unintelligibly, pulling her bare legs up onto the couch.

Ian blinked. "Amy," he began uncertainly, "I—"

"Say it!"

"I beg your pardon?"

Amy took a deep breath, her voice shaking, and Ian tightened his grip around her, moving even closer.

"Say 'I told you so'," Amy murmured, lowering her eyes.

"Amy, it's—"

"No, Ian." She turned her gaze onto him, her usually bright eyes red and full of tears. **"Just because you didn't like him doesn't mean he was bad."**

Ian's eyes softened as he moved closer towards her. "No, love, I never—"

"_He loved me!_"

_**"The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return!"**_

Amy paused, and slowly turned to the screen where Toulouse-Lautrec had just summed up all of her feelings into a single soulful sentence. "He loved me, right?" Her voice dropped down to a slightly hysterical whisper as she turned back to Ian, green eyes full of confusion and naïveté.

Ian was speechless.

**"He** _did_**, right?"**

Ian didn't have time to reply as he leant forward to meet Amy's lips.

* * *

**Yesterday the most horrible thing happened.(This is actually me whining about my tragic life. It's not very interesting but I need to vent.) Some of you might know I live in Japan. Here in Japan we only have ONE Ben and Jerry's, and it is located in Harajuku, from which I live about 2 hours away. I LOVE Ben and Jerry's ice cream, I actually first tried it when I went to Dubai this January, so I really, really wanted some. A couple of my friends and I took THE GODDAMN SUBWAY (I hate public transportation, call me a brat, but I like my car) in 2 degree Celsius weather, and then we walked for fifteen minutes to Ben and Jerry's. By this time I could hear my heart thumping and the angels singing from above-BEN AND JERRYS DAEIULFHIUFRH. But fate hates me. **

**You know why?**

**It.**

**Was.**

**CLOSED. **

**come on now, really? REALLY? The one day I actually spare time and personal comfort to travel for two hours to a land where everyone is wearing purple wigs and pink mary janes, and tries to hand you promotional tissue packets, THE ICE CREAM STORE IS CLOSED. **

**My cherry garcia. **

**My chunky monkey. **

**I've never felt so much agony in my life.**

**On a happier-ish note, I have my spelling bee this Saturday and I'm really nervous. My parents are going to be there ("Oh we have a daughter?") for a change, so I am extremely nervous. It's also my last year to compete as I'm turning fourteen this year and going into the ninth grade so the pressure is really on D;**

**(If you're still reading this...pick two letters and write them over and over sequentially, like so: mnmnmnmnmnmn :P I have no life. ) **

**Someone said I make Ian say "****goddammit" too much. I know, I'm sorry :P When I speak with a friend or someone I know well, or when I'm mad, at least one out of every ten sentences uses the word "damn"or "goddammit" in it. It's my parents fault. (yes I'm playing the blame game.) I was unsupervised as a little kid, and I've watched every episode of Hell's Kitchen. Yeah. I don't like Kitchen nightmares though. Ramsey is way too polite. WHY DID THE CHICKEN CROSS THE ROAD? BECAUSE YOU DIDNT FUCKING COOK IT! Ah, classic Gordon. **

**Thanks you so much for all your reviews, and I especially want to thank my amazing beta claire0414. She's a genius. I'm not even joking, when I compared my original draft to this one, this one was just sjkdahfadh and a hundred words longer. I really really couldn't do this without my beta and all of the support and loving death threats from you guys. I really appreciate it when anyone takes the time to write a sentence or two about my writing. I can't believe this story has had over 3000 views!**

**Please review? Pleasies? ILL BE BACK to check. (what movie is that from :P)**


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